All I Want For Christmas Is You
by cakebythepound
Summary: An instant connection between two strangers leads to interesting things at a friend's Christmas party. (AU Richonne.)
1. Hello

**A/N:** Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope everyone's is enjoying their day, whether you celebrate or not! I come bearing gifts in the form of Richonne smut. It's also kinda cute, I think, although I'm never quite sure how AUs connect with people. But anyway. I hope you like! And more importantly, from the bottom of my heart, I hope you're happy today and every day. Because you guys make me happy today and every day. I love y'all. -Ash

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Hello**

When he stepped into the bakery, her long chocolate legs were the first thing he noticed, and they looked more delectable than anything on display in the store. As much as he hadn't been a fan of the warm Atlanta winter, he was so thankful for it in that moment. No need to bundle up in layers of clothing that would've hidden her gorgeous shapely figure. Instead, her hip-hugging red dress with a bow at the small of her back made her look like a Christmas gift. Her legs in a pair of strappy gold stilettos were just the cherry on top.

He stepped into line behind her, quietly hoping she would turn his way so that he could see the rest of her. He admired her curly dreadlocks and the way the tips of her hair matched her shoes. He couldn't wait to see the face that belonged to this vision. But instead, his phone vibrated against his thigh, and he pulled it from his pocket to find his girlfriend's face staring back at him. He rolled his eyes as he answered the call.

"Hey."

"Hey," she greeted him. "Do they have any left?"

Annoyed, he turned to the window of the small bakery, where his car was parked just a few feet away, with her waiting inside. "Jessie, I literally just walked in. There are seven people in front of me."

"So you can't see what they have?"

"I'm gonna go."

"Rick," she whined.

"I can see some of what they have," he sighed softly. "I'll text you when I get closer."

"Call me."

"All right." Clearing his throat, he hung up the phone and made a half-assed attempt at seeing into the display case.

"Picking's are slim," said the lady in red, turning her head just barely in Rick's direction. "Some chocolate and vanilla ones left, but most of the good flavors are gone."

He smiled at the fact that the lovely stranger in front of him had addressed him first, after obviously overhearing his conversation. "You didn't come for any of the good ones then, I take it."

"Well I came for red velvet," she smirked, finally looking his way. She was taken aback by the fact that the country twang behind her belonged to such an attractive face. Chiseled jaw, dimpled cheeks, dark curly hair, and eyes so blue, they looked clear. "I stayed for sweet potato," she eventually finished with a flirtatious grin.

"I see," he nodded, trying not show his hand in his instant attraction to her. But she was stunning, and her smile nearly knocked him to the ground.

"I guess it's a good thing I came for sweet potato."

"Smart man."

"I have my moments."

"Are you also bringing them to a Christmas party because you were too lazy to pick out a good bottle of wine?"

He chuckled, though he couldn't stop his eyes from scanning her entire face – enjoying her plump red lips in particular – and regions south. Her long-sleeved dress covered most of her skin and somehow, still showed off all her assets. "If I know my friends, they'll have more than enough to drink."

"Sound like my kinda people."

"You're welcome to join me," he offered, only half-joking. "Ditch your stuck up friends for some fun."

"Oh, my friends are stuck up?"

"They are if they care what kinda wine you buy."

She nodded in amusement, laughing at the enticing idea as they moved up another spot in line. "And how would _Jessie_ feel about me joining you?"

"I dunno, I think she'd be all right with it," he smirked. "The more, the merrier."

"You're terrible," she giggled.

"You have no idea."

She glanced out to the dark parking lot, wondering if she could spot the woman her handsome stranger was obviously attached to. Her eyes settled on a black BMW with a blonde sitting in the passenger seat, and decided that it matched him and his Ralph Lauren duds to a T. "So is that your wife?"

"She wants to be," he revealed, feeling inexplicably at ease with the woman in front of him. He briefly turned in Jessie's direction as well, shaking his head. "But no."

She raised her perfectly arched eyebrows at him, feeling the urge to pry, but refrained. Mostly because it was nearly her turn to place her order. "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to join you two some other time. I probably shouldn't skip out on this particular party."

"Work event?" Rick guessed, wincing at the thought.

"Sort of." In truth, it was her boyfriend's work event, being thrown by his boss; an event where she would be arm candy for the night. But she didn't want to ruin the repartee she had going with this guy by bringing her boyfriend into the conversation. Given that she'd likely never see him again, whe wanted to take advantage of the harmless flirting - some form of stimulation - before she set off to be a Stepford wife for several hours. "It's too late to cancel."

"So you would if you could."

"I get the distinct feeling you're nothing but trouble, but… yeah," she admitted, admiring the gray flecks in his beard; the way the navy blue of his suit brought out his eyes. "Another time, another place, maybe this could've been something interesting."

"Name the time and place and I'll be there."

"I like how you completely ignore the fact that you've got someone out there waiting for you."

"I just know not to pass up something good when I see it."

"You've got her. I've got plans," she shook her head regretfully. "I'm thinking fate's trying to intervene here."

"You're breaking my heart," he grinned. He noticed her begin to pull her credit card from her clutch, so he tried and failed to get a peek at her name.

"Those damn hearts are so fragile, aren't they?" She winked as she stepped up to place her order. "Hey," she greeted the clerk with her blinding smile. "Could I get two dozen of the sweet potato cupcakes? And then half a dozen of the chocolate with the candy canes."

"I'm so sorry," the employee winced, pointing towards the back, "we're at our last twenty on the sweet potato."

"Twenty is fine," she nodded. "I'll just do ten of the chocolate then."

"Awesome. Sure."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Rick declared from behind her, his eyes scanning the sparse display case for any other options.

She turned back to him, realizing she'd taken the last of what he'd come in for. "Oh god," she said, affectionately grabbing his arm as she leaned into him. "I'm so sorry."

He felt his face flush as her body came into contact with him, her hand brushing his skin, and he no longer cared about cupcakes. "The only way you can make this right is to give me your number," he smiled, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She wanted to. She really, really did. But she had a boyfriend, and offering her number to this alluring stranger was a slippery slope. She was thankful when her completed order interrupted their exchange. "Another time," she whispered, reluctantly releasing him from her grip and stepping back to the counter.

"That'll be $112.35."

She handed over her card, collecting her boxes as she willed herself to forget about this man and everything they'd said, everything she'd thought in the past five minutes. It was harmless, meaningless flirting. She couldn't just blow up her life for some guy in a bakery, even if it sounded like something she wanted. Maybe even needed.

"Happy holidays, ma'am," the clerk said, handing back her card and receipt.

"Same to you," she smiled, a bit sadly then, turning for the door without giving her new friend another look. She quickly scurried toward the Audi parked clear across the lot, and struggled to pull open the back door with all the items in her hand. All while her boyfriend sat in the front seat, being utterly unhelpful.

"Jesus, Mich, did you have to make the fucking cupcakes yourself?"

Michonne glared at her mate and his need to rudely comment the second she finally got the door open. "Pete," she sighed, not bothering to think up a reply. She began to carefully arrange the cupcakes on the floor so that they wouldn't slide once the car was in motion. .

"We should put that shit in the trunk," he added. "Last thing I need is cupcake frosting all over my seats."

"They'll be fine unless you plan on driving like a maniac," she quipped, slamming the back door shut before swiftly climbing into the front seat.

"Seriously, what took you so long?" Pete pressed as he backed out of their spot.

"It's crowded in there," she frowned. "And they're out of nearly everything, so people have to rearrange their orders."

"You have to rearrange ours?"

"I got sweet potato instead of red velvet."

He scoffed at the revelation and briefly considered telling her to return them. "I knew you should've gone this morning."

"Because I had so much time." She started to roll her eyes, but her glare immediately softened when the lovely stranger she'd been flirting with made his way into the parking lot. He was empty handed, and she felt bad for stealing his order; even more so for being silly enough to turn him down.

"You had time to get your hair and nails done," Pete muttered, erupting into her thoughts.

"I wanted to look nice," she replied calmly. "You told me to look nice."

"And you do. But I would've preferred you look a little less nice and getting there on fucking time."

She shrugged as they turned onto the street, and she got one last glance at her stranger before he disappeared into his own car. She _really_ wished she had gone with him instead. "Can't always get what you want."

* * *

A little over an hour later, Lori Walsh, alongside her husband, Shane, were standing at the center of their crowded home, making small talk with their two most recent guest arrivals – Dr. Pete Anderson, and his exquisite girlfriend, Michonne. Shane was off on a tangent about the best and worst golf courses in the city, while Lori had somewhat tuned out of the conversation, surveying the party to make sure that all of her guests were enjoying themselves. And then a giant smile overtook her face when she noticed her best friend make his grand entrance, along with the latest in his lineup of not-quite-girlfriends that she'd been waiting to meet. "Rick," she called out to him excitedly.

He caught his friend's eye, and nodded towards her and Shane, prepared to head their way and introduce them to Jessie. But just then, another guest moved from his line of sight, and like some sort of mirage, somehow, there stood the illustrious lady in red. Standing there with his two best friends, her arm linked with some guy he'd never seen before. And she had noticed him too, visibly inhaling as she clutched at the neckline of her dress.

"Come," he instructed his girlfriend, not bothering to see if she'd follow. He coolly maneuvered through the small crowd and approached the foursome, trying to suppress the smile that wanted to burst past his lips. "Hey," he greeted them.

"Hey, sweetie," Lori returned, happily offering her friend a giant hug, complete with a kiss on the cheek. "I was just about to call and see where you were."

"Hey, man," Shane welcomed his buddy with a half-hug.

"We had to stop at two places," Rick revealed, handing over a bottle of champagne to the lady of the house. But he didn't take his eyes off of the woman that had enchanted him back at the bakery, and she didn't take hers off him.

"You know you didn't have to bring us anything."

"I do know that." He turned just enough to see that Jessie was, indeed, beside him, then took a step back to make her the center of attention. "She wanted to make a good impression."

"You must be Jessie," Lori grinned, pulling her into an embrace as well. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"Oh, I didn't… I didn't realize you'd been waiting," Jessie stuttered, happy to hear that Rick had even mentioned her to his friends. "It's nice to meet you, too."

"Well it's been almost a year," she declared in disbelief. She wrapped her hand around Jessie's shoulder to introduce her to the rest of the small group. "This is my husband, Shane," she said, "and this is one of my coworkers, Pete, and his girlfriend, Michonne."

"Hi," she grinned at the three.

Rick took in the introductions as well, happy to be able to put a name to his stranger's face. "Good to meet you," he said, extending his hand to Pete. He did his best not to stare any more as he shook Michonne's soft hand. "I'm Rick."

"It's nice to meet you, Rick," she smiled.

"Can I get y'all anything to drink?" Shane offered, taking the bottle of Krug champagne from his wife. "Shit, we got the good stuff tonight."

"He's pretending that they don't always have the good stuff," Rick joked to the rest of the group.

"Bring a glass for everyone," Lori laughed. "It'll be our little secret."

"Oh, none for me," Pete inserted into the light conversation. "That's all a little too rich for my blood."

The laughter came to an awkward halt at Pete's declination, Rick glaring at him, while Jessie and Lori looked at each other and then down at the floor. Shane was the one to break the tension. "Well you're in my house, so you're gonna drink my goddamn champagne."

"Just give it a try," Michonne whispered beneath everyone's laughter. She didn't want him to say or do anything to make the situation any more uncomfortable. "If you don't like it, I'll finish it."

"I can finish a glass of wine," he rolled his eyes.

"So we're good?" Lori asked, staring expectantly at Pete. She knew from working with him that he was difficult, but she had hoped he would lighten up for the occasion of a Christmas party.

Michonne smiled sweetly, while Rick looked on, annoyed by the entire exchange. "We're good," she promised.

"Six champagnes, comin' right up," Shane declared, just before disappearing towards his kitchen.

"So Pete, you work with Lori at the hospital," Rick questioned, still agitated but doing his best to dismiss it. "Did I hear that right?"

He nodded, faking a smile in her direction. "She's the one who tells me when I've used too many rubber gloves, or lost track of too many pens," he joked. "She's a stickler, that one."

"Hey, the budget's the budget," she shrugged, catching his backhanded compliment. "I do my best."

"All jokes aside, I'm finding that she's a quite effective administrator," he nodded. "Which could not always be said for other hospitals I've worked at."

"And Pete is a very… gifted surgeon."

Rick offered an equally phony grin at the good doctor, and then directed his attention to Michonne. "And what about you?"

"I don't believe I've used more than my share of rubber gloves," she discreetly winked at him.

Rick chuckled, appreciating her wit. "So you're a doctor, too."

"No, most certainly not," Pete cut in bluntly. "Michonne here is a defense attorney."

"Uh oh," Lori chimed in, glancing Rick's way. "Am I gonna have to break you two up?"

"Why, what's wrong?" Michonne wondered, a bit nervous to find out the answer. Seeing this guy walk through the door, finding out that they were attending the same party, it had been the best possible outcome she could imagine. She didn't want anything to ruin that.

"Rick's a prosecutor for Fulton County."

Rick smiled at Michonne knowingly, albeit a bit disappointed, raising an eyebrow at the information. "You fight for the bad guys, huh?"

"Three sides to every story," she shot back with a smirk.

Lori tapped Rick in his back when she realized that he was flirting with this woman in front of his girlfriend, not to mention her boyfriend. She did her best to pull his focus back to where it should've been. "You said Jessie was an artist, right?"

"Aspiring artist," she replied, shyly shaking her head with a smile. "Along with like twelve other things."

"You paint?" asked Pete.

"Mostly sculptures," she said, "but I've been known to cover a canvas or two."

"She acts shy about it, but she's really very talented," Rick submitted.

"Well I'd love to see your work," Lori added, just as Shane returned to the group toting a tray full of champagne flutes. She instantly began to distribute the glasses as she promised Jessie, "We'll talk."

"Talk about what?" Shane questioned. "What'd I miss?"

"Just getting caught up on everyone's career paths," she revealed, kissing him on the cheek as she collected her own glass. "Thank you, baby."

"Shall we toast?" Michonne asked, thankful for something that would hopefully loosen her up. What with standing there between Rick and Pete, and across from Jessie, she felt stiff as board from all the tension in the room.

"Oh, that's all Rick," Shane replied, turning towards his buddy. "Do the honors, man?"

"Well," he accepted, his steely blue stare flitting toward Michonne once more as he held up his glass. "I'll keep it short and say, 'Here's to friends… old and new. Merry Christmas.'"

"Merry Christmas," they all replied. Michonne made sure to catch Rick's gaze before taking her drink. To new friends, indeed.

* * *

"I don't know if you noticed, but there's a party goin' on inside."

Michonne smiled at the sound of her stranger's gravelly Southern twang, turning from the beautiful view of the Walshes' backyard to the even more beautiful view that was Rick Grimes. "I needed some air," she said, moving down the balcony railing a few inches to give him some space to join her.

"Yeah, your boyfriend does a good job of taking up all the oxygen," he smirked, happily sauntering her way.

"Believe it or not, this is him being polite."

He simultaneously leaned over the handrail and moved in close to her, their arms grazing one another as he swirled his glass of scotch in his hand. The night was quite perfect, he noticed, as a light breeze swept past them. The stars twinkling, aligned for the two of them, it seemed. He still couldn't believe that the woman from the cupcake shop was standing beside him; not after he'd resigned himself to never seeing her again. Fate had intervened. Even though it knew she had a boyfriend. He smiled as he turned his head toward her. "Why are you with him?"

"I'm with you right now," she shot back, avoiding his stare.

"You know what I mean."

She shrugged. "Same reason you're with her, I'd venture to guess. Better than going home alone."

"At least she's nice."

She scoffed at his lack of defense. "Yeah, well at least Pete's not boring."

"No, I suppose not," he chuckled sarcastically as he nodded. He took a sip of his drink, letting it warm his chest before he went on. "You just don't seem like the type to settle. You're not even living a life here."

"You're making a lot of assumptions about someone you _just_ met."

"I make it a point to observe."

She didn't miss his innuendo as he took a step back to admire her physique. "And what have you observed this evening, counselor?"

"A woman too good for that man in there," he said, whispering the words over the top of her head. "All this beauty, this poise, this wit. You're wastin' it on him."

She quietly inhaled his scent as the compliment washed over her and she smiled. "I'm not that elegant, I assure you."

"Prove it."

"You're bad," she chuckled upon seeing that devilish smile that got her so flustered back at the bakery. She quickly sobered up as she leaned over the railing herself, giving her tired feet a rest. "Whatever Pete and I have, it's mutual," she explained. "Neither of us ask for a lot from each other, and that's what we get in return."

"Does that apply to sex, too?"

"The sex is fine," she shrugged.

He rolled his eyes at the use of the word 'fine' in describing sex. "And you wanna claim he's not boring?"

"Sex doesn't have to define everything."

"It should still say somethin'," he countered. He studied the side of her gorgeous face as she lowered her head, her fingers tracing the ridges of the wrought iron they were standing against. "I know he's a doctor or whatever, but you don't need this guy as a placeholder. You know you can have any man you want."

"People say that, like it's so easy. Like people we're compatible with just grow on trees," she shook her head. "But the reality is, it's very hard to find someone that meets all your needs. People settle all the time." She watched as his gaze trailed into his glass and he took another big gulp of his brown liquor. "Hitting a little too close to home?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," he smirked.

"Mmhm," she smiled back. "Well I've observed a couple of things, too, and I know you're out here with me, while your doting girlfriend is inside, probably wondering where you are. Why you aren't with her. Why you won't love her," she said, letting her words hang in the air. "She's certainly not ugly. You said it yourself, she's not mean, not pretentious. She seems sweet, in fact. …But you don't want sweet."

"So you think it's all me?"

"It's her fault she can't give you what you want?"

"It's because I don't know what I want," he admitted, noticeably watching her mouth before letting his eyes wander southward again. "But I'm wanting."

Her sultry stare took him in, absorbing his words as she stared back at his lips. She was wanting, too. "You may not want to admit it, maybe it makes you feel less shitty if you don't say it out loud, but you do know."

The two of them stood face to face, and while Rick would normally stand a few inches above her 5-foot-7 frame, her heels gave her the height to whisper directly in her ear. "And what is it that you want, Michonne?"

She bit her bottom lip as her eyes dropped to her new friend's waistline, and hesitantly roamed back up to his face, staring into those eyes of his. "They're right inside," she whispered back, wishing she could keep the smile off of her face.

"You don't need him and I don't want her," he said, scanning the balcony for a secluded spot. He found one in the corner, beneath the staircase to the upper terrace. No one would notice them unless - until - they walked outside. "I want you."

Michonne swallowed hard, knowing that she was only pretending to be uncertain. She wanted him from the moment she laid eyes on him, and now that the opportunity had presented itself, it was silly to act as though she wasn't going to take it. She glanced toward the balcony doors, making sure that the coast was clear, and then palmed his dick as she breathed against his throat. He dropped his glass into the grass below them and she smiled at his reaction. "I want you, too."

His breath caught in his throat as she released her grip and turned to walk away, that bow on her back looking even more enticing than it did before, now that he would get to unwrap the present. She walked down the steps toward lower ground, the pounding of her heels against the walkway matching the beating of his heart as he followed her. Unsure of where he was headed, and unable to wait any longer, he caught up to her and pushed her against the side of his friends' house, pinning her against the brick and mortar. He kissed her without warning and she welcomed him, tongue and all, as her body melted like butter in his hands. He groped her breasts as she sucked the air from him, neither of them able to get quite enough of the other. Her fingers gripped the curls at his nape, while he slowly inched her dress up her waist. They were moving fast, not even because they had to, but because they couldn't bear to wait. Her luscious lips, sucking at his, were the precursor to an instant erection, his dick throbbing to get to her.

"You think the neighbors'll see us," Michonne whispered as they pulled apart, her hurriedly unbuckling his belt.

"I hope so," he mumbled, lapping at her neck. Her dress was up around her waist as he groped her ass excitedly. Her thong offered little obstruction, and he had his fingers inside her before either of them knew what was happening. She was slick already, after an entire evening of salivating over the man she was about to fuck, so foreplay wasn't needed. Still, he enjoyed playing with her wet folds, teasing her clit with his forefinger while his middle and ring fingers briefly penetrated her center. She was so warm, it almost didn't feel real.

"Fuck," she moaned quietly. Her fingers were fumbling with his pants, desperate to feel his cock in her hands. And more importantly, inside her before they got caught. "Oh god."

He continued to finger her, his movements a little more rapid and erratic as she pulled his length from his boxer briefs, and he felt the breeze hit his bare ass. Her warm hands felt like a mouth that he hadn't been prepared for.

"Fuck me," she said.

He didn't need to hear anything further, and gave her clit one last rub before taking his cock into his own hand. He hoisted her against the wall once more, while she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he pushed her panties to the side as he blindly guided the head of his dick into her waiting wet pussy. Both of them grunted at the delicious sensation, and Rick had to pause to simply find his bearings after the immense delight. She was tight, fitting his solid eight inches like a glove that was meant for him specifically. And the farther he pushed in, the better it felt. "Fuck," he groaned, pressing his hand against the brick for leverage.

Michonne squeezed her walls around him, already feeling herself at the edge of an orgasm as she took him in. He was thrusting into her hard, while his lips sucked at her neck. Two minutes in, and it was already the best sex of her life. "God," she whimpered, holding onto his strong shoulders. Her breathing quickened with every plunge, her back beating against the house. "I'm gonna die," she whispered.

"Don't," he joked, using his free hand to clutch her ass. He nearly died himself when she began to roll her hips, her wet depths encircling his hard length. He covered her lips with his once more, sucking her tongue as they crashed into one another. The warm night air had them sweating, their heartbeats racing, while their heavy breaths just slightly drowned out the sound of his cock sliding into her.

Michonne felt herself coming undone, feeling the tip of his dick deep inside her. Feeling his veins against her walls, his shaft hitting her clit each time he pushed into her. She wasn't kidding when she said she was dying. The pleasure was unbearable. Her orgasm started with a low rumble in her core, feeling her legs beginning to shake, and it grew from there. He continued to fuck her, oblivious to the fact that she was already coming, and it got bigger with every thrust. Her wet pussy creaming around him as her climax filled her entire body. "Rick," she moaned into his ear.

He could feel her body going lax, as her warm cum coated him. She was done, and he didn't need to hold back any longer. He hammered into her harder, faster, willing himself to quickly finish what he started. As much as he didn't want to be done, they needed to be. Getting caught wouldn't do anyone any favors. "Shit," he breathed against her throat, his lips latching on as he felt his dick quivering as he came. His thrusts slowed and his ass clenched as he exploded into her.

She felt his release and let out a soft exhale, letting her back rest against the house as she came down from her high. "God, that was good," she sighed.

He didn't say anything, but smiled as he gave her one more kiss, and then slowly, carefully pulled out of her, while she descended from his waist. They silently fixed themselves up, Rick pulling up his pants as Michonne pulled down her dress. They watched one another as they moved, the moonlight bathing their glistening faces. He almost couldn't believe that stopping for cupcakes had somehow led to this.

"You're quiet," she noticed, feeling her back to make sure her bow was still in tact.

"I don't know what to say," he answered honestly. For a man like him, who so often used his words well, it was baffling that they were failing him now. "I don't wanna go back in there."

"Well," she smirked, placing her hands squarely on his chest. She could smell her perfume on him, see her red lipstick smeared across his chin. "We have to."

"I can't go back in there and watch you with him."

"I'm not all that excited about seeing her fall all over you either," she admitted, running her thumb over his lip. "But I'll be thinking about this the rest of the night. I'll be thinking about you."

He loved the sound of that. He rested his hands on her hips as he nodded. "What happens after this?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her stare darting toward the ground. She _really_ didn't want to go back in there either. Not when she could stay there with him, holding her the way he did. "But maybe… Maybe we just get through the rest of this night," she offered, looking back up at him. "Make it through this party with him and with her. And tomorrow, we'll… do what we need to do."

He closed his eyes, loving the sound of that, too. "And then we get to live."


	2. If I Never See Your Face Again

**A/N** : So this is later than I wanted it to be, and I'm sorry, but I was super busy before Christmas, and vacation has managed to make me lazier than ever, haha. But I figure it's still timely since it's still 'the holidays'! I got quite a few requests to continue this this (which is literally the only reason I even got it done, lol), so... I really hope y'all enjoy! And we'll meet back here for the next installment next Christmas! (Kidding. I think.) But in all seriousness, thank you all so much for the support you've shown this year - it's been absolutely everything to me. And I truly hope your holidays are happy, however you're spending them! -Ash

* * *

 **Chapter 2: If I Never See Your Face Again**

It had been a few minutes since Rick's gaze followed Michonne back into the party after their little tryst outside. He'd waited just long enough for her to find her drink and her boyfriend before he headed in after her, figuring - or at least hoping - that their friends were none the wiser about their disappearing act and that the coast would be clear. But he had no such luck, his best friend catching him closing the balcony door just after he slipped back inside the house.

"So where have you been?" Lori announced to his back, purposely startling him in the process. Her tone managed to be both accusatory and casual at the same time, likely thanks to the champagne talking for her.

Shaken by her voice, he turned to face her, his fingers covering his tingling lips just in case they made him look even more guilty than he already did. "I was just… outside," he shook his head. "It's nice out."

"You were outside by yourself?" She found herself smirking at him, clearly skeptical of his story. "Couldn't even bother to tell your girlfriend where you were?"

Rick visibly cringed at the word 'girlfriend' in reference to Jessie, especially knowing that at some point very soon, he would be ending things with her. And it was one of few things he wasn't very good at, if he were being honest with himself - he tended to only like the beginnings of things. "Actually, have you seen her?" he wondered, glancing into the living room containing most of the party's guests. He figured the sooner he could get this over with, the better.

"Last I saw her, she was getting a drink," Lori gestured toward where the bar was set up. But before she could let her friend go, she moved in close to discreetly offer him some sage advice as she smoothed his shirt collar. "You have lipstick on your chin." And she had a pretty good idea of who that lipstick belonged to, recalling the short conversation she'd had with Pete's girlfriend about her lovely Louboutin rouge. But Lori kept that part to herself, instead directing Rick to a nearby mirror so that he could fix himself up.

He grinned at her appreciatively, as he was in too much of a stupor to even think about checking his appearance before going off to rejoin the party. "You're a lifesaver," he called back to his friend.

"Yes, I am," she winked, taking off to search for her own husband.

Rick quickly moved to the giant mirror situated at the foot of the Walshes' winding staircase, rubbing the remnants of Michonne's lipstick from his beard; brushing back his curls so they weren't quite so disheveled. He couldn't get rid of the smirk on his face that said, _I just had the best fuck of my life_ , but… it would have to do.

Once he completed his once-over, he returned to the main event, scanning the party for the blonde head and little black dress belonging to his date. But his eyes insisted on finding Michonne, as if she had some sort of gravitational pull on his gaze. She was standing beside her own boyfriend, although mostly nursing a drink while she looked around the room - perhaps in search of him, too. Even after what just happened, he could not stop staring at her. This vision in red with an ass that could stop traffic, a smile that stopped his heart, and a charm that made him feel like time stopped when they were together.

He had to physically resist the urge to go join them, and he only succeed because he turned a corner and finally found Jessie, engaged in conversation with two people he only knew as Shane's friends, Dale and Andrea. "Here you are," he smiled politely as he approached the small group, his hand high on Jessie's back.

She turned to the sound of his voice, pleasantly surprised to see him after having spent a good ten minutes looking for him. "There _you_ are," she returned, grinning back at him. She wrapped her arm around his waist, proud to introduce him to her new friends. "Andrea, Dale, this is my boyfriend, Rick."

"We've met before," Andrea nodded to him. "At last year's Christmas party, right?"

"I believe so," Rick nodded back, offering handshakes to them both. "I was actually hoping I could steal this one away for a minute?" he requested, mostly to Jessie.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," she was happy to oblige, the two of them excusing themselves from the conversation to find a quiet corner a few feet away. "Rick, look," she pointed to the low ceiling, where a tiny bouquet of mistletoe was hanging just above them.

He chuckled awkwardly and leaned in to give her a short, soft peck on the lips. "Merry Christmas, Jess."

It was such a quick embrace, she barely had time to register that he'd kissed her. But she certainly didn't miss the subtle but strange scent on him, finding herself inhaling the smells of someone else's perfume mixed with something else she couldn't quite pinpoint. It might've been liquor, but her mind was racing to conclusions until she was left at a loss for words, and not in a good way. "Well it's not Christmas yet," she replied flatly, her hand running down his arm. "But thanks."

"You ready to get outta here?"

Her eyes narrowed, hoping he wasn't actually serious. He'd just disappeared for thirty minutes to do god knows what, with god knows who, and now he wanted to leave? "No," she sneered. "We're in the middle of a party."

"You're havin' fun?" he questioned - in which case he was happy she hadn't missed him.

She shrugged, her gaze scanning his face for clues of what was really going on here. She wished she were better at reading him. "Aren't you?"

"I am…"

"Then why leave?"

He chuckled a bit flippantly, wanting so badly to just rip off the bandaid so they could move on with their lives. But if she wanted to stay, he would try to suck it up for a few more hours. "All right then," he nodded.

"Here," she handed him her half-empty cocktail and linked her arm with his, guiding him back to the party to find more strangers to captivate. "It'll be over soon," she whispered.

Rick quickly gulped down the drink, thinking she had no idea just how accurate that statement was.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the room, Michonne was trying her best to remain engaged in her own conversation, but Pete was telling his favorite story about the patient whose heart stopped for _seven whole minutes_ , yet he'd still managed to save her. And as much as she had always done well playing the supportive girlfriend role, pretending she hadn't heard that story 96 times already, after what just occurred on the balcony, she couldn't even pretend to listen now. Instead, her gaze had floated across the room to where Rick looked equally bored with Jessie hanging onto his arm. Michonne was staring at his back, so she couldn't even get his attention if she wanted to; she could only stare longingly, admiring how sexy he looked just standing there, those bowlegs on prominent display. She attempted to take a sip from her champagne glass, not realizing that it was already empty, and a frustrated sigh escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you," Pete paused his tale to ask his girlfriend.

"No," she was quick to say before something she regretted could come out of her mouth. Particularly, the part where she wanted to break up with him posthaste, but knew it would be in poor taste to do so at his boss's house, in front of his coworkers. "I'm just gonna refresh my drink," she held up her flute. "Excuse me."

Michonne swiftly dropped her glass to a passing waiter's tray and made her way to the bathroom for the second time in fifteen minutes. It probably looked strange to anyone watching, but she didn't care at that point. It was the safest space for her to process her errant emotions - from the excitement of meeting this guy that made her feel like she was floating, to the guilt that came with cheating on the guy she was about to break up with, even if he was an asshole more often than not. It was all swirling around in her head, making her feel things she hadn't in ages. She almost didn't recognize herself as she looked in the mirror, which, in all honesty, was probably a good thing; unable to keep the smile off of her face as she washed her hands. "What have you done," she happily sighed to herself.

She took another few seconds to dry her hands and work out which drink she would order to get her through the remainder of the evening. But when she swung the bathroom door open, she was met with the delicious sight of Rick staring back at her.

"I saw you come in here, so..."

Michonne watched his tongue snake out to lick his bottom lip, and suddenly, she no longer needed a drink - he was the only thing she was interested in consuming. She took his tie into her hands, discreetly peeking out of the door to confirm the coast was clear before pulling him into the bathroom with her. "You're gonna get us caught," she grinned.

"I swear I'm not tryin' to." As she pinned him against the bathroom sink, his hands settled on her hips and he rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing in her scent as she ran her fingers through his hair. "I just can't stop thinking about you."

"I know," she mumbled, shaking her head as she briefly thought of Pete out there, sucking up all the oxygen, as Rick had so accurately described it. "I can't even look at him anymore."

"I tried to get Jessie to leave so I could just get this over with tonight. But she's 'not ready to go.'"

Michonne smirked, figuring his girlfriend had an inkling of what was waiting for her at the end of the night and she was simply trying to prolong the inevitable. Which almost made her feel bad for the woman, but not enough to stop her from wanting her man. So much so that it'd barely been thirty minutes and she already wanted to fuck him again.

"Let's just stay in here all night," Rick whispered, looking up to face her again. One of his hands cupped her cheek, and the other wrapped around her waist as his lips found hers. Urgently and passionately, their tongues lashed and locked, their lips and noses pressed into one another until they couldn't breathe any more. And as her perfect body melted into his, he was so vividly reminded of what it felt like to have her wrapped around him, her wet and tight pussy taking him in every other second. He could not wait until they could do this all the time.

"Mmm," she moaned as their kiss dwindled to a couple of gentle pecks. She rested her hand on his chest, noting how hard it was beneath her palms. "As much as I love the sound of staying in here with you, it would probably be rude to the other guests that need to use the bathroom?"

He nodded, pretending to agree, his eyes wandering around the small room before landing back on her. "In that case, we probably shouldn't have sex in here, huh?"

"Probably not," she giggled, rolling the fabric of his tie between her fingers. The way his pretty, pouty lips were staring back at her, though, she was thinking quite the opposite. "By the way," she appended, taking just a couple of steps back to pull up the hem of her dress. She showed him the underside of the red fabric with a raised eyebrow, "You got cum on my dress the first time."

Rick's ears perked up at her choice of words, hoping she was implying that a second time was in the cards for them in the very near future. Still, he did feel bad about leaving a stain on such a lovely dress. "I'll buy you a new one," he promised.

Licking her lips, she shook her head again, assuring him that there was no need. "That's all right," she whispered, her fingers finding his waist to unbuckle his belt for the second time that night. She gracefully dropped to her knees as his pants fell to the floor with her. "Just don't do it again."

Rick watched with wide eyes as she pulled his soft cock from his boxers, a matching smile on her face as she laid eyes on him for the first time. "Jesus," he mumbled, actually processing what was happening here.

Michonne looked up at him while she kneaded his thick length in her hands. "It's been a while since I've done this," she confessed, "so be patient with me."

He nodded, though he couldn't imagine this woman could ever do anything wrong in his eyes. Hell, just seeing those plump red lips wrapped around his dick would probably get him off before she even got started. "I will," he promised in a heavy breath.

With that, she began to gently lick the head, covering him with her saliva as he grew erect in her hands. She grinned at the way his body shivered at her touch, and she wrapped one of her hands around his thigh to keep him steady, and used the other to stroke his shaft in long, slow strokes, milking him for pre-cum. She pulled back, licking her lips as she watched it dribble from the tip, then used her tongue to quickly slurp it up. "Rick," she moaned at his sweet and sour taste, devouring it like juice. In another life, she actually really enjoyed giving head, so this was as much a treat for her as it was for him.

Rick's breaths were already stuttering as he felt her take his swollen balls into her hand, massaging them gently while her lips covered his length. Her mouth felt like a vacuum as she sucked him hard, then released the pressure just barely before going back and doing it again. "Michonne," he called out breathlessly, his head pressing against the bathroom mirror, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as she blew him. "God, you feel good."

"Shh," she hissed in an attempt to quiet him, guessing there was likely someone on the other side of the door by now. As much as she was enjoying his moans, that he was unafraid to reassure her that she was doing a good job, she still wasn't exactly trying to get caught.

Once he quieted, she continued her task of giving him head like her life depended on it. Her head bobbing up and down as she took him in and out of her mouth to a rhythm that existed only in her mind. And while he was bigger than what she was used to, she did her best to swallow him whole, salivating on his rigid length as it reached the back of her throat. As her jaw began to tire, she released him from her lips, allowing her hand to take over, but she had a feeling he was getting close. His knuckles had gone white clutching the edge of the sink, while he quietly moaned her name under his breath. She was ready, too, feeling her pussy clenching, wetting her panties, yet again, as she completed the erotic act. She resumed licking her way up his shaft and then back down again, rolling her tongue in slow, torturous circles, making him writhe so hard he was the one fucking her mouth.

"I wanna marry you," he whispered in the heat of the moment, his fingers tangling in her curly locs.

Michonne wanted to smile, but her mouth was full of his cock, so she simply moaned in response. She knew he didn't mean it, and probably had no idea what he was even saying, but she loved that he felt good enough to let it out. And she continued to stroke his shaft while she licked and sucked the tip like a lollipop, unrelenting in her craft. His breathing labored even more, and an assortment of incoherent sounds came out of his mouth before he busted into hers. His cum came out fast and thick, not unlike what she'd experienced on the balcony, but she gulped it down like a shot, eagerly and shamelessly. Swallowing every last drop, so as not to get any on her dress, of course, but also because she liked the taste. She'd missed it. She was in her twenties the last time she met a man she wanted to give a blow job to, much less, actually swallow for him. But this guy was really breaking all her rules.

A satisfied smile claimed her face as she wiped her mouth and she stood to face him. "How'd I do?"

"You know exactly how you did," he grinned, leaning in to lick her lips before leaving a quick kiss on them. "You are unreal."

Beaming at the compliment, she used her thumb to wipe her lipstick from his mouth once more. "You should probably go out first and clear the area."

He nodded, but didn't move, his eyes still dancing up and down her flawless face. He couldn't actually believe any of this was happening, but he simply wasn't ready for this to end yet. "Turn around," he instructed quietly.

Without any questions asked, she did as he requested, spinning on her heel so that her back was facing him. She felt him brush her hair out of his way, leaving a soft kiss on the back of her neck while he lowered the zipper of her dress, causing her to giggle. "Rick, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"Well you said not to get cum on your dress again." He began to push the dress down her shoulders, letting it fall from her insane body and drop to the floor with his trousers. "Better safe than sorry."

* * *

"Mrs. Walsh."

At the sound of Pete's voice, Lori turned from her kitchen counter, where she'd been enjoying a cupcake in happy solitude, to address her guest. "Pete," she offered him her best fake smile. "How can I help you?"

"Just wondering if you've seen my girlfriend," he asked, joining her at the counter. "She went off to get a drink and I haven't seen her since."

Lori nodded as she stuffed the remainder of the last sweet potato cupcake into her mouth, having a pretty good idea of where Michonne had to disappeared to. Or at least, with, since Rick was mysteriously missing in action, as well. "I saw her… she was on the balcony having pie with a couple of my friends," she lied, hoping to cover her friend's tracks. "That was maybe ten minutes ago, though?"

He nodded, gazing back into the main room to see if perhaps she'd come back inside since his last search.

"If I see her," Lori offered, rubbing her hands together to wipe them of crumbs, "I'll tell her you're looking for her."

"I'd appreciate it," he smiled back tensely. "It's been a nice party, but I'm on call tomorrow, so I do need to get some rest."

"No explanation needed, Pete." She attempted another grin as she hopped down from her stool, adding, "If I don't see you before you leave, you two have a good night."

"You, as well, Mrs. Walsh."

She immediately turned to escape his stiff presence, rolling her eyes at his sudden insistence on referring to her by 'Mrs. Walsh' at a party, when at work, he generally called her by her first name unless he was introducing her to someone else. "So weird," she whispered to herself, off to search for Rick and Michonne in the sea of people crowded in her home. She knew they weren't on the balcony again, as Shane was out there now with a few of his buddies, smoking cigars. She glanced up the steps, wondering if Rick would've taken a stranger that far into her home without asking, but shook her head, concluding that he wouldn't. A bathroom, on the other hand…

She headed across the foyer to where the guest bathroom was situated, finding two of her coworkers waiting near the door, engrossed in conversation. "Hey, Jacqui. Amy," she approached them with her bright hostess smile. "Have you two been waiting long?"

"Just a couple of minutes," Amy shook her head, having forgotten that they were even waiting for something. "It's fine."

"We're fine," Jacqui agreed, resting her hand on Lori's back. "This has been such a nice party, by the way. Thank you."

"Oh, it's been my pleasure," she assured them. "But I just wanted to let you know, I've gotten reports that this restroom has been acting up tonight, so you're welcome to use our other one." She directed them through her living room, all while trying to eavesdrop on what might've been occurring in this bathroom. "Straight back, and then on your right, toward the garage," she offered.

"Oh, cool," Amy nodded. "Thanks, Mrs. Walsh."

Lori watched with an exasperated sigh as the two ladies took off, and she leaned against the nearest wall, waiting to confirm her suspicions.

And back inside the bathroom, Rick and Michonne were experiencing a bit of déjà vu as they hurriedly reclaimed their clothing to return to the festivities. Replacing underwear and zipping up zippers, both of them in quiet disbelief that this was actually happening again. That two perfect strangers could walk into each other's lives so randomly and turn them upside down so wonderfully.

As Rick fastened the back of Michonne's dress, he capped off the moment with another tender kiss in the crook of her neck, while she refreshed her smeared lipstick. He gazed at her reflection in the mirror, basking in the opportunity to unabashedly stare, good lighting and all, and he was completely stupefied by the image looking back at him. This woman was breathtaking. "God, you're gorgeous," he declared with awe in his voice.

She smiled in reply, unable to remember the last time she heard that from a guy she was actually interested in. "So are you." She grabbed her clutch from the counter and turned to face him, placing a hand on his face before offering him one more short, sweet kiss. "But you have to get out of here."

"Right," he grinned. He loved the ease of their communication – it felt as if they'd known each other forever. "I'll see you out there." He gave her a parting glance, straightening his tie before stepping out of the bathroom ahead of her. Of course, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he found Lori standing there, seemingly _waiting_ for him to appear, but he was quick to swallow it back down. "You might wanna wait a minute before you go in there," he greeted her, fanning the area for added effect.

Not batting an eye, Lori looked at the closed bathroom door and then back at Rick. "Pete's girlfriend is in there?"

"Yep," he nodded, instantly giving up the ruse. "You... probably still don't wanna go in there for a minute, though."

She punched him in the chest, even if she was mildly amused that Pete Anderson was being played amidst of all their shenanigans. But even then, Jessie seemed like a perfectly nice person, and what he was doing to her was shitty, to put it mildly. "You really are a horrible fucking person," she hissed. "Why do I even bother learning their names at this point?"

He chuckled knowingly, and considering he'd only met Michonne three hours ago, he understood why his friend felt that way. But the connection he'd made with her was already so much deeper than anything he'd experienced with any of those other girls he never let her meet. He wasn't sure whether he believed in love at first sight, but if it existed, this was it. "It's not like that," he promised Lori, an uncontainable smile on his face as the words came out. "This is different."

* * *

"So what do you think is going on between the two of them?"

Jessie hesitantly dragged her gaze from Rick, where he stood several feet away, until it landed on the man whose voice had just intruded on her and her loneliness. She recognized him as the doctor Lori introduced when she and Rick first arrived, but she couldn't imagine why he'd be talking to her now. "Excuse me?" she frowned.

Pete accepted his new drink from the bartender as he sidled up to Jessie, and then turned to face the foursome across the room that notably included her boyfriend and his girlfriend, laughing as if they had not a care in the world. "I asked what you think is going on with my girlfriend," he pointed to Michonne specifically, unmissable in that red dress, "and your boyfriend. You're with Rick, right?"

She cringed at the way he said Rick's name as if it were some disease, all while grimacing at the very question. "What's that supposed to mean?" she shook her head.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he feigned contrition, "were you sitting here watching them because you just like the way they look together?"

"I wasn't… I wasn't watching them." She swallowed down the last of her watery drink and set the glass back down, solely to avoid looking back over there. "And I don't know what you're trying to imply, but–"

"Oh, come on," Pete cut her off. "You don't have to pretend for my sake, I'm in the same boat."

"I don't–"

"I dunno how well you know him," he granted, interrupting her yet again. "Hell, I don't even know Mich that well, to be honest. It takes time to really know someone, and... I don't have that luxury." His tone had suddenly gone contemplative as he took another sip of scotch. "But what I do know is that I've spent most of my night looking for my date. And I'm betting you have, too. And now they're there, and we're here, and they certainly don't give a shit that we're not with them."

Jessie chewed on the inside of her cheek as she gazed back over at them. It was hard to pretend that she didn't notice the way he interacted with this woman. The way he smiled at her, the way he paid attention to her when she spoke, actually wanting to hear what she had to say, it seemed. He was enamored, to say the least. And at most, he'd gone off to fuck her in the middle of a Christmas party, while she was somewhere bragging about him to strangers. "I'm gonna go," she said, already rising from her seat before her thoughts could get the best of her.

"I don't like it any more than you do," he assured her, taking a step back to allow her out of the space. "But you can't tell me I'm wrong."

"You're an asshole," she replied in the most matter-of-fact tone she could muster. And without any other words, she escaped Pete's unsettling presence and scurried across the room to Rick. She was actually happy to interrupt what sounded like a discussion on vacation destinations, tapping his shoulder to get his attention.

Distracted, he turned to the interjection, almost surprised to see it was Jessie. "Hey."

"I'm ready to go now," she announced before he could even start with any small talk.

Rick's smile immediately fell as real life came crashing down on him - the clock was striking midnight at the ball when he wasn't nearly ready to leave. "Oh…"

"Please," Jessie added, noting the reluctance on his face.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm not feeling well," she submitted. Which wasn't a total lie, considering how awful it felt to listen to Pete tell her things she already knew and didn't want to confront in the first place. "Can we just go?"

"Of course," he nodded, swallowing back his frustration. He looked over to Michonne, trying to figure out how to say goodbye in front of all these people – namely, Jessie – when there was so much unsaid between them. Now he only wished they'd taken even a minute of all their time alone to exchange phone numbers, or even last names. "Can I say goodbye?"

She nodded for him to go ahead, taking a step behind him so that he could address his friends.

"Lori, Shane," Rick declared, already moving in for hugs. "So sorry, but we have to run."

"Oh no," Lori pouted, accepting his quick embrace. "Well I'm so glad you could make it."

"Always good to see you, man," Shane offered with a bear hug. "If the weather stays warm like this, we gotta go for a round soon."

"Absolutely," he grinned. He landed on Michonne last, and he wasn't sure what to do with the tiny window of opportunity he had while Lori and Jessie said their goodbyes. All the things he wanted to express were inappropriate for the moment. He could only stare, much in the same way he had when they first met. "Michonne, it was nice meeting you," he said in what might've qualified as the understatement of the year, shaking her hand in the most cordial of salutations.

Michonne gazed back at him, her eyes saying more than her words ever could. Thanking him for walking into that bakery and changing her life for the better; for saving her from an excruciatingly unfulfilling relationship. He'd made her smile unlike anyone had in… well, ever. And he may have been leaving at the moment, but she hoped he knew this was far from over. This was just the beginning of something. She gave his hand a final squeeze before he could let go, as if to say _I'll find you_ , and she whispered back to him, "It was nice meeting you, too, Rick."


	3. Public Relations

**A/N:** Well hello, friends! I really didn't think I'd be able to get this out today, but apparently, being organized works wonders for doing things in a timely manner, haha. At any rate, this update has been much-requested throughout the year, so I'm glad I could offer this as a sort of gift to you guys that are still with me after all this time. There's definitely a story to be continued here, so I do hope to get to that, maybe next year; maybe sooner! Anyway, thank you all so much for being a part of this whole... thing. Even when TWD isn't good, this fandom (mostly) is, and I love that about us. I hope you're having a happy day, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, and I wish you all a wonderful, Richonne-filled 2018! -Ash

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Public Relations**

The drive home was awkward. No, that was an understatement. The tense, silent ride was torturous. Rick flew down I-75 as quickly as his BMW would allow, counting down the exits to 248C; and the Christmas music playing only seemed to exacerbate the awkwardness, with both of them seeming to know what was coming at the end of the trip. The only reason he hadn't said anything yet was because he didn't want to have some conversation and still have to ride home afterward. He was going to wait until they were all of five minutes away from their destination.

"You lost a cufflink," Jessie quietly commented. She'd been watching his hand on the steering wheel for minutes now, absently, for the most part, until the lack of the shiny adornment seemed to catch her eye. She checked his left arm just to make sure she wasn't misremembering in her tipsiness. But he'd made such a big deal about wearing those specific David Yurman ones because they matched his suit, so it was certainly noticeable when one seemed to have gone missing.

Rick only glanced at her, perplexed by the declaration, as if she'd spoken to him in German. "Huh?"

"Your right cufflink is gone," she clarified, a small sigh following her words.

"Oh." He studied his wrist, noticing it for the first time, but unsurprised by the news. After everything he'd done with Michonne that night, he was more surprised that that was the only thing missing. "Hmm. I'll have to ask Lori if she finds it in the house."

Jessie was concerned with what else Lori would find around her house if her suspicions were correct, and her stomach churned at the thought. "I'm sure you'll figure it out," she submitted dryly. She traded his unadorned wrist for the view in front of them as he exited the highway and took to Freedom Parkway – luckily, that meant it wouldn't be long until she was free from that stuffy car.

"Well," Rick cleared his throat, stalling; trying to find the words to say this shitty thing he had to say. "Since we're talkin', I guess I might as well get this out."

She turned her body in his direction, bracing herself for the impact of whatever it was.

"You've been... good to me," he said. He was glad his eyes had to stay on the road so he had an excuse not to look at her as he stated this. "And you and I had a good time together..."

Jessie's dark eyebrows knitted into a frown when she realized that this wasn't some confession of sins he was offering up. He was breaking up with her.

"...But the truth is, I was never in this for the long term, and I was fooling myself thinkin' that I could try. And I realize that after tonight." His voice went low as he said the next part: "After I met someone."

"Wow," she scoffed in disbelief, mostly hoping she was imagining all of this. It had to be some kind of hallucination after too much bourbon, right? Because surely this man that she'd been with for nearly a year wasn't breaking up with her less than a week before Christmas. That couldn't have been what was happening. "The biggest part of me wants to think this is some kind of joke, but... I guess the other part saw this coming. You embarrass me by disappearing repeatedly, come back to me smelling like another woman, and instead of confronting that fact, I literally hold my breath." She sneered again, shaking her head – mainly at herself. "You're an asshole, but... I guess that makes me a dumbass."

"Jess, I didn't mean for it to happen like this," he replied in a hoarse, contrite whisper. "I mean... Not that I planned for this to happen at all."

"Yeah, no, you just do whatever the hell you want. Consequences be damned, because you never have to suffer them."

"It's not like that. It's - it's not even you. It's me. I need... something else."

She shook her head once more, uninterested in entertaining his explanations – not that he was even giving her the courtesy of having one. He was breaking up with her for a woman he'd met a few hours ago. So all she really heard was that the many months they'd spent getting to know each other meant nothing to him. "You don't have to say anything else," she sighed. If her feet didn't already hurt in the heels she was wearing, she would've asked to get out of the car right there on the side of the road. "I dunno how you do this to someone," she mused, muttering to herself.

"I'm sorry it happened this way," Rick offered. A meaningless platitude, he knew, but there was nothing that could really soften the blow here. There's no nice way to say, _Yeah, I'm leaving you for another woman_. "I really am…"

"Well I hope you two are happy together," Jessie said, her tone devoid of any emotion by then. "Until you inevitably decide that you're bored with her, too."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the ritzier area of town, Michonne was sitting outside of Pete's condo under the guise of collecting her makeup bag, trying to figure out how to have a similar conversation with him. On the ride home, he'd _insisted_ on listening to the latest episode of _This American Life_ instead of anything she might've had to say. He probably already knew what she had to say, and it annoyed her to no end, seeing he was obviously going to make this difficult for her. But it shouldn't have surprised her, because Pete made everything difficult.

With a heavy sigh, she forced herself out of her car, just her purse in tow, and trudged inside. She sweetly greeted the doorman and other passing neighbors before heading up to the 37th floor. When she entered the lavish apartment, it was suspiciously quiet, not to mention, dark, with all but a few of the kitchen lights turned off. She listened for sounds coming from other rooms – a shower running, perhaps, or drawers closing. But no, nothing. She continued to his bedroom, where she found him already in bed, either pretending to be asleep or he'd found a way to actually drift off in the five minutes she'd been downstairs. Either way, she was miffed. He had to do everything in his power to get undressed and get to bed that quickly. What an asshole.

Another exasperated exhale flew from her lips as she turned out of the room and headed back to living area, deciding she would sleep there for the night. She wouldn't even bother with taking off her dress or makeup – just her earrings and shoes – and settled into the couch with Netflix. He wouldn't be able to avoid her there – so she thought.

But the next morning came, and Pete had, indeed, avoided her. She awoke with the sun, which was later than her typical rise time of 5:30. She thought surely she would've been up in time to catch him before he left; instead, she was sleeping soundly, dreaming about one Rick Grimes and all the filthy things she'd done with him the night before. Replaying all the big and little moments – him fingering her before they fucked, her swallowing his cum, what he felt like inside her; but also the chaste kisses he left on her shoulder after they finished, and the way his eyes glimmered in the moonlight. She still couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to be swept away by a stranger like some kind of rookie. She knew better, and still, she refused to stop thinking about this man.

Even when she opened her eyes to Pete's apartment, the only thing on her mind was where Rick might've been. Had he ended it with his girlfriend? Or had his efforts been thwarted like hers? Was he thinking about her, too? Did he still smell like her? She desperately needed a shower herself, but she wasn't ready to be rid of his scent.

"That's gross," Michonne chuckled to herself, forcing her body from the warm couch and her mind to stop wandering. It wasn't until she got up that she noticed the aroma of coffee permeating the giant room. She could see the full pot of brew as she circled the sofa, and any other morning, she would've gone right for it. This morning, however, she headed into the bedroom instead. To pack.

Not that she kept much at this place – she never quite felt comfortable there. She had a dedicated drawer in his dresser, but only brought herself to keep more than a few t-shirts and pajama shorts in it. Always bringing overnight bags when she planned to actually stay. She gathered her belongings in an orderly fashion – shoes and clothing items; then any toiletries and hair products; and lastly, her knickknacks, like phone chargers and earrings. Luckily, it all fit into her one little Gucci duffle. She'd spent nearly two years with this man and everything she got out of that relationship amounted to her belongings stuffed into a fancy gym bag.

On her way out, Michonne turned off the coffee and placed her key on the countertop before giving one last glance to the posh apartment she would undoubtedly miss. Sprawling views of the city that her house just couldn't provide. She'd gotten used to having a gym downstairs and a valet at her fingertips. But she wouldn't miss Pete, which was why she had no twinges of sadness or even regret as she turned out of the door. Only glee, really, as she thought about seeing Rick again. She even considered heading to her office to look up his personal information on LexisNexis, just so she wouldn't have to wait.

But then, as she headed down the corridor, smiling at all the festively decorated doors, she received a call herself, her phone quietly ringing and vibrating in her bag. Her first inclination was to ignore it, just in case it was Pete. But remembering it was Sunday morning, and how her mother liked to call her on the way to church, she decided to answer. She followed the sound until she could fish out her iPhone, but the caller ID displaying an unfamiliar number gave her pause. Was it just wishful thinking, or was there an actual chance it was Rick?

"Hello," she answered quietly and cautiously, her eyes darting around the hall as if she were being watched.

"Did I find you?"

Michonne inhaled sharply at the sound of his deep, soothing drawl, and her heart started beating so fast, she swore he'd be able to hear it. "Rick?" she asked, her voice hopeful despite knowing it was him.

"Michonne," he said it not as a question, but a statement, a smile in his voice as he confirmed it for himself. What a relief. "Hey."

"You found me," she grinned into the phone. She looked around one more time before leaning against the wall between the elevators. She didn't want to go downstairs just yet, fearing the call might drop.

"It wasn't easy," he joked. On his side of the call, he was sitting in bed, taking in the bright Sunday morning. He'd been counting down the minutes until it was an appropriate time to call, and he wasn't sure that 8:00 am was that time, but he couldn't wait any longer. "Turns out there are a lot of Michonne's in Atlanta."

"Are there really?" she frowned, finding that surprising.

"No," he chuckled. "I actually… I mean this might sound creepy, but I asked Lori to get your number from Pete."

"And he gave it to her?" Again, that didn't sound like it could be true.

"Well, Lori kind of hates him, so she really didn't want to. The creepy part is where it turns out you're his emergency contact. So that's how she was able to get it."

Michonne snorted, then giggled at the admission. "I'd prefer to call that inventive," she submitted, impressed, actually. "I googled you last night, so we're probably pretty close to even."

"Did you really?"

"I did. I thought surely I'd find you on Facebook once I got your last name, but since you're apparently the only person on the face of the planet without one, I was gonna give you a call at work tomorrow."

"Ah," he was also grinning into his phone, "yeah, I don't do social media. It seems… messy."

"Yeah, no, I was forced to get Facebook by my sister. But it's a nice way to keep up with my nieces, at least."

Rick chuckled quietly, thinking about how he wanted to hear more about her nieces. And everyone in her family and everything else they hadn't gotten to speak about before they saw one another naked. "I wanna see you," he declared, his voice soft, like the light streaming into his room. "As soon as you're free."

"How about now?" Michonne retorted almost instantly. Before she realized she was still in the same dress and makeup as last night. "Can you do breakfast somewhere? In like an hour?"

"That sounds... yeah," he laughed again, feeling giddy, like a kid on Christmas morning as he recognized that she was just eager to see him as he was her. He was already climbing out of bed and thinking about what he would wear. "Just name the place."

* * *

A little over an hour later, Rick and Michonne were seated at a corner table of Highland Bakery, a popular cafe in the Old Fourth Ward area of town. It was crowded, as it tended to be most weekends, but it was cozy. A perfect setting for Rick and Michonne to get to know each other – verbally, at least.

Of course, their attraction to one another was still quite palpable. Even as a more casual version of their former selves – both of them dressed in dark jeans, Rick wearing a light denim shirt that matched his eyes, while Michonne was in an oversized sweater that showed off her exquisite shoulders – they were finding it difficult to concentrate on anything but each other.

"All right," Rick said, throwing down the menu he'd barely glanced at; his eyes more focused on Michonne's exposed skin. Her red dress from the night before was hard enough to get over, but that ivory cashmere against her lovely dark brown complexion was something to behold. "I'm done lookin'. I know what I wanna eat."

"I'm not on the menu," she grinned back, having noted his hungry gaze. "I mean, not right now," she corrected herself. Because she had every intention of letting him devour her the next chance they got.

"Well shit." He couldn't help his smile as he picked up the menu one more time, but his eyes stayed on his date. "No, I really did decide on the sweet potato pancakes."

"I knew you were gonna get them," she shook her head.

"Well, after you stole the last cupcakes yesterday, I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"You didn't get any at the party?"

He gave her a knowing look with a raised eyebrow to match his cocky expression. "I mean… I got _some_ ," he quipped. "But not cupcakes, no."

"All right," she giggled, covering her face, as she could feel it growing warm with embarrassment. "You get way too much joy out of corrupting me."

"Oh, so it's just me?" His eyes were absolutely twinkling as he gazed at her. In fact, they were both so absorbed in one another, they hadn't noticed their server approaching until he was asking if they were ready to order.

"Oh," Michonne giggled again, returning to her menu to scan it one last time. "You go first," she told Rick.

"Okay, but this won't take very long. I'm gonna do a full order of the sweet potato pancakes," he submitted to their waiter. "Brown sugar butter on the side, please."

"Absolutely, sir," he nodded before looking to Michonne.

"Shit. Okay," she sighed, still undecided. There were so many options, and they were all so good. Normally, after a night of drinking and eating junk, she would get something on the healthy side. But Rick continually brought out her naughty side, it seemed. "I'm gonna have the sweet potato pancakes, too," she resolved after a few more seconds of debate. "Half order. No pecans. And can we get another round of cider?"

"Of course. I'm gonna put in your order and then get that right to you."

As they handed over their menus, Rick couldn't help but notice the way she pronounced the word, 'pecan.' _Pee-can_. Not at all what he was used to hearing in his neck of the woods, and it was the first time he considered she might not have been from Atlanta.

"I didn't even ask if you wanted any more cider," Michonne realized as their server disappeared. "Sorry."

"Well you're the one paying, so I'm happy to have another if you want me to," he grinned.

She shook her head at how silly he was. He made her smile. A lot. How terrifying.

"You weren't supposed to get the same thing I was getting," he appended, picking up his mug to finish what was left of his apple cider. "We're supposed to get different things and then share."

Michonne frowned at the thought, unsure why she'd share with someone when she was perfectly capable of getting what she wanted for herself. "I don't know if we know each other well enough for that," she declined, mostly jokingly. "That's a thing couples do, don't you think?"

"So you're sayin' we're not a couple yet?"

"You didn't know my last name before this morning."

"I think once you swallow someone's bodily fluids, you can skip formalities like surnames."

"Rick," she nearly shrieked, her big, beautiful eyes scanning the nearby tables to make sure no one heard him. "You're terrible." She playfully kicked him, but then found herself laughing again as he held her foot between his. "Rick…"

He had a wide, happy smile on his face, enjoying the way his name sounded on her lips. Those lips. He hadn't stopped thinking them all night, but his memory hadn't done them justice. As he gazed at her now, he couldn't stop thinking about kissing them again... "Bawdy jokes aside, I did think that's what we were agreein' to last night."

"I mean, I guess we kinda did," she granted, laughing at the very thought. "Of course, I was pretty intoxicated, so…"

"Were you really?" he asked, the disappointment in his voice apparent.

"I mean, not on alcohol. Just… being around you," she explained with a quiet, thoughtful simper. "I didn't feel like myself. I don't even remember a lot of last night, yet I can't stop thinking about it."

Rick bit his bottom lip in a failed attempt to contain his own grin. His heart dropped at the thought that she hadn't enjoyed whatever they'd shared as much as he had. Now, it was racing again. He couldn't remember the last time he felt like this – if he ever had. "So did you go home and break up with that asshole you called a boyfriend?"

She cocked her head to the side, her face scrunching up as she admitted that she hadn't. "See, what had happened was..."

"Michonne," he groaned, sitting back in his chair; finally releasing her foot in the process.

"No, he really… I couldn't," she sighed. "I wanted to do it in the car, but he didn't wanna talk. When we got back to his place, he was in bed by the time I came upstairs." She rolled her eyes for effect, mimicking the same things she felt the night before. "So I slept in the living room, thinking I'd catch him this morning, but he snuck past me."

"He _scurried_ past you. Like a rat," Rick noted with a knowing smirk. "He knew you were gonna end it."

"I think he's scared," she acknowledged, her voice dropping an octave. "Which is silly, because we never actually did anything for each other. He didn't like me and I didn't like him."

"It's not possible to not like you," he interjected. His expression – his eyes, especially – said that he was serious. "And maybe under the threat of losing you, he's realizing how true that is."

She smiled bashfully, but shrugged at the idea of Pete realizing anything. "Somehow, I doubt that. But I just took all my stuff and left. I haven't decided whether to just let him figure it out, or if I should call him later, just so it's crystal clear."

"You can split the difference and text him..."

"That's poor form," she initially grimaced before reconsidering. "Isn't it?"

"Everything I saw from him last night tells me _he's_ poor form," he laughed. "But I'm not good at breaking up, so if you're worried about manners, you shouldn't listen to me."

"It's too late to not listen to you," she smirked. "I'm already here."

He was beaming, utterly enamored with this woman. She had to be the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on, and the fact that she was, indeed, there with him still blew his mind a bit. "In that case, I think you should do it."

"Do what?"

"Text him."

Michonne sighed, still unsure whether that was the proper course of action, tempting as it was. "While you're over there cajoling me to be terrible, did you break up with Jessie?"

"I did," he confirmed with a subtle nod. "I felt like an asshole, but after what you and I did, it would've been worse to let it go on any longer."

"Did she take it well?"

"Well as can be expected, I guess," he shrugged. "I dunno." He paused momentarily as their new cups of apple cider were served, waiting until their waiter was gone before continuing. "I always knew that we saw things pretty differently."

"That poor girl," Michonne shook her head sympathetically before taking a sip of her new drink. "She had no idea what to do with you, did she?"

"To be fair… I'm a bit of a handful."

She smirked as she reminisced, once again, about the events of the previous night. He was certainly a mouthful, if nothing else. "You're more than that, if I recall correctly." She watched, amused, as his entire face turned a bright shade of pink, and she was glad that she could make him react the same way he often did her. "I know it sounds cliché as hell to say, but I promise I'm not normally like that."

"Well that's disappointing," he teased, sipping from his cup again as he kept his eyes on her.

"I'm being serious," she smiled back. "Last night felt unreal. Like some kind of fairytale. ...An R-rated fairytale, but nevertheless."

"X-rated, probably."

Another laugh fell from her lips. She hadn't laughed this much in all the time she spent with Pete. "I dunno what's going on," she admitted, forcibly pulling her gaze from his face so that she could grab her phone from her purse. "Maybe I'm just desperate for something new in my life, or maybe, like I said yesterday, this is fate intervening. But you brought out something in me, Rick. My sense of adventure?" She shrugged, unable to pinpoint exactly what it was. "Somewhere along the way, I lost the spark that made me fun, and immediately, you brought it back."

"I'm glad I could help," he grinned. "And since we're layin' all our cards bare," he started, "I've never done anything like this either."

"Oh, yeah right," Michonne rolled her eyes playfully.

"I mean, yeah, I've had sex with strangers before," he granted. "But this whole you and me thing. I don't make promises or commitments or anything alluding to either one. But I'm bewitched." A smile showed on his entire face, claiming his cheeks and then his eyes. "I've never even used that word before," he chuckled. "But it's true."

"Rick…"

"I just wanna get to know you," he added in the softest of voices. His hand met hers on the table and he rested it on top of hers affectionately. "I wanna spend every minute with you that I can."

"I want that, too," she whispered, her thumb rubbing his.

"We should go... somewhere. Just get away for the rest of the year. You and me."

"Oh no," she whimpered, pulling back from him reluctantly. "Don't say that."

"Why can't I say that?"

"Because I can't go anywhere this year."

"You _can't_?"

"I really, really can't," she shook her head. "Shit."

"You have a trial or somethin'?"

"I have a family. A family that's gonna kill me if I miss another Christmas," she said, her face contorting into a pout. "I leave Wednesday and don't come back until after the new year."

He groaned, admittedly crestfallen, but he couldn't be mad that she needed to spend time with her family. His own mother would have a fit if she didn't see him for at least one of the big three holidays every year. He wanted to ask if by some chance, she wouldn't be traveling far. Perhaps he could drive to her on one of those uneventful days between Christmas and New Year's. But they had only known each other for 12 hours and he didn't want to come on too strong. Stronger than he already had, anyway. "Well," he sighed gently, "I guess that means we've gotta enjoy the time we have now."

"That's gonna be my mantra for 2016."

Rick grinned again, appreciating seeing her lighter, brighter side already. "Well what are you doin' today?"

"Aside from you," she smiled mischievously before shrugging. "I've got some Christmas shopping to do."

"Sounds good to me," he agreed, sitting back in his chair just as Michonne slid her phone across the table toward him. "What's this?"

"Read it."

Initially puzzled, he surveyed the screen as told, another smile forming when he realized that it was a text message conversation with Pete's name as the heading. And at the bottom of the exchange was a single text in a blue bubble – an outgoing message – that read: _I'm sorry for doing this via text, but it seems you didn't want it any other way. As I'm sure you've figured out by now, we're at the end of our road. Thank you for keeping me company when I needed it. Take care._

* * *

"Oh, we should go into Saks," Michonne pointed out with her free hand as they approached the extravagant department store. "I need a new dress for this trip."

"You _need_? Or you want?" Rick chuckled, but he was happy to accompany her into the store. In fact, for the past two hours, he'd accompanied her into every store, from Tiffany's to Teavana, holding onto all of her bags while she went on a veritable shopping spree. And if they weren't a couple, it was hard to tell as they giggled and flirted their way through Phipps Plaza hand in hand. It was a scene straight out of a Christmas movie, where some cheerfully cheesy, yet apt song should've been playing on the soundtrack.

"I want," she admitted, dragging him into the store, "but I'm gonna be in Jersey, so it's quite likely we're gonna end up in the city for New Year's. And I do need a dress for that."

Rick stopped in his tracks, confused by this turn of events. "What's this about New Jersey?" he questioned her. He'd listened intently as she told him all about being from DC. He knew he hadn't gotten that wrong, because he'd been hanging onto every word she said. "I thought you were goin' home for Christmas."

"Oh, no, this year, Christmas is at my sister's house," she clarified. She laughed, amused at how he was so intent on getting all the details about her life right. She believed him when he said he wasn't like this usually. This was different. "She lives in the 'most expensive zip code in America.'" She rolled her eyes for effect, thinking of how many times she'd heard her brother-in-law broadcast that fact.

"That's impressive," he commented, though he couldn't help but note the apathy in her tone. "I mean, you live in the most expensive zip code in Atlanta."

"Do I?"

"Don't pretend you don't know that," he smirked, the two of them continuing into the swanky store. "Nothin' wrong with liking nice things."

She practically swooned at the way he said 'things.' His accent was going to be the fucking death of her. With so many transplants like herself, in the Atlanta area, it was hard to find a genuine southern accent like Rick's, attached to a face like his, along with a liberal point of view. "I'm perfectly comfortable with liking nice things," she told him, eyeing him to underline her point. "I just don't enjoy when people brag about it."

"So you mean you're not gonna go and tell your family all about me?"

"The jury's still out," Michonne admitted with a big, wearied sigh. "My sisters love teasing me because they haven't met anyone I've dated since college. They think I can't keep a man... like that's something to worry about," she scoffed. "But... I don't know that touting the guy I met yesterday would do anything for my case."

"Probably not," he granted with a little smirk, following her into the women's section of the store. "But just so you know, I'll definitely be telling my family about you."

Michonne's head snapped in his direction, pleasantly surprised by his declaration. "Are you really?"

"I am…"

She moved to stand in front of him, her smile wide as she contemplated if and how she could do the same. It sounded ridiculous, but… if she was going to leap, she might as well go all the way. "Okay then," she nodded, squeezing his hand. "I'll tell mine, too."

"You don't have to do that," he chuckled. He could see how nervous the notion made her. "It's all right if we take baby steps here."

"Pretty sure we're past baby steps," she shook her head, turning back to the rest of store, scanning the floor for the dress section. "Come. Help me pick out a dress."

"I owe you a dress," he remembered, absently running his fingers over the fabric of all the fancy ones they passed. When she looked back at him confused, he added, "For last night. We messed yours up."

"Oh yeah, you do."

The happy couple continued into the area containing cocktail dresses, Rick thumbing through the intimidatingly large selection, bypassing anything that went past the knee. Beyond that, his taste wasn't quite so discerning – from vivid colors to simple blacks, sequins to lace, he had an armful of just about everything.

"What... is this?" Michonne approached him with a giggle, pulling one of his bolder picks from the pile. It was a jaw-droppingly short, sequined silver dress with a deep V-neck that she would never wear in public.

"What? It's a dress," he laughed at her baffled and slightly horrified expression. "You said it's for New Year's, right?"

"Yeah, with my _family_ ," she scoffed, amused. "Not as an escort."

"Are you kidding me? You'd look amazing."

"Well, you're probably right about that," she granted with a cheeky smile, just before laughing at herself for agreeing. "But I can't."

"You could..." He looked her up and down, acknowledging the fact that she made something as simple as a sweater and jeans look sexy as hell. He knew very well that she could. "Try it on."

"You're such a terrible influence." She lost count of the number of times she'd shaken her head at him and his irresistible, charming way of getting her to do things she had no business doing. "I knew you were trouble when you walked in that bakery."

"And you haven't stopped smiling since," he also knew. He nodded toward the fitting rooms, coaxing her to take the dresses. "You should try 'em all on, but that one's the best one."

"Yeah, we'll see about that." As he started to hand over his armful of inventory, she stopped him, declining the items and grinning puckishly instead. "Come on."

"Oh." Rick was happy to accept the unexpected invitation and went on to follow her like a dutiful boyfriend, toting all her bags and clothes while she conferred with the dressing room attendant. Within seconds they were headed inside, and he was immediately struck by how much nicer it was than most fitting rooms he'd been in. Ornate mirrors everywhere, plush seating lining the walls, and the rooms were more like walk-in closets than stalls. "This is a fancier than what we get in the men's section," he commented as they strolled to the end of the corridor.

"This is for club members," she explained casually, opening the door to her suite to reveal a small room full of mirrors. "After you, sir."

He stepped inside a bit timidly, hanging the dresses along the designated rods. He looked back at Michonne to see her already beginning to pull off her boots and he took that as his cue to get out of there. "All right, I'll be right outside."

"Shut the door and have a seat," Michonne instructed, gesturing to the chair located against the one bare wall. She went on to step out of her jeans, slowly, as she knew he was watching, exposing her backside to him – covered only by a thin pair of lacy black panties that had ridden up between her cheeks. She then pulled off her sweater, revealing her naked breasts, her nipples already stiff from the adrenaline rush of standing nearly nude in front of a man she'd met yesterday. "Which one first?" she asked him.

Rick let out a rigid sigh as he stared at her reflection in the mirror. "Umm…" He could barely speak, taking in her perfect body. The ripples of her arms and stomach had him mesmerized, until he laid eyes on her ass, jiggling just a little each time she took a step, and he went into a full trance. He grabbed his own knee just to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. "I, um - I don't think it matters."

She smirked at his reaction, satisfied to see that she was driving him crazy. "I'll go with your pick then," she decided, pulling the short shimmery selection from its hanger. "I didn't even check to see if you got the right sizes," she realized, starting to pull the dress up her slim hips. "This looks tiny."

"I got two's," he submitted, his eyes finding her face momentarily. He vaguely recalled that being the size of her dress the night before. "I dunno if this is news to you, but _you're_ tiny."

"Just get over here and zip this thing up."

He gladly did as told, approaching her from behind to fasten the expensive dress – of course, not before copping a quick feel of her bare back, her dark skin shimmering just as much as the sequins. His fingers grazed the waistline of her panties just before finishing the task. "See?" he grinned, the two of them gazing at her reflection. The dress showed off her magnificent legs and even accented her beautiful collarbone; although, admittedly, it was pretty revealing.

"It barely covers my tits," she dismissively laughed as she gently tugged at the fabric to make it so. "I'm not wearing this with my family."

"Well fine," he relented, his hands resting on her hips. "You can wear it with me when you get back."

Michonne smiled in reply, already exhilarated by the thought of seeing him again, even though they still had a few days before she left. Everything about him just... excited her. And from what she could tell, given the way he was pressed against her backside, the feeling was absolutely mutual. She momentarily rested her hands on top of his before turning her head to whisper to him, "Go sit back down."

"Yes, ma'am." He chuckled awkwardly as he released her, wondering if he'd bothered her by not simply zipping the dress as she'd requested. But then he watched her turn toward him, a mischievous glint in her pretty brown eyes as she slipped out of her panties, and he licked his lips, swallowing hard with the realization of what was happening. "Is this why you wanted me to come in?"

"Yep." She was biting at her bottom lip as she approached him, pulling up the dress so that it was around her waist, and she nodded for him to unfasten his pants. "I'm surprised you didn't have the idea first."

With his jeans unbuttoned, he pulled his semi-hard dick from his boxers, stroking it as she stood over him; already imagining rubbing it against her smooth pussy. "Now who's the bad influence," he smirked up at her.

"Obviously, you've successfully corrupted me." As he got himself ready for her, she did the same, licking her fingers before beginning to touch herself, her eyes instantly closing at the sensation. She had to stop herself from moaning out loud when Rick's hand joined hers, gently pushing into her moist center. She had to grab his shoulder just to keep herself upright as she straddled him, desperate to let him in. "Tell me when," she whispered.

She was getting so wet, he was certain any passersby would be able to hear him fingering her. And he only added to the sound by pulling back the fabric of the dress to release one of her breasts and immediately began to suck. He let out a quiet moan as her soft flesh filled his mouth, her pebbled nipple tickling his tongue. His dick was hard as a rock by then, and twitching for a feel of her. "When," he mumbled, reluctantly releasing her from his mouth. Another groan fell from his lips as she sank down on top of him, her wet, hot pussy clenching as she took him in. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ," he exhaled, his mouth hanging open with pleasure.

Michonne nodded, her face conveying all the pleasure and pain that came with taking in his full length. "Mmm. Shit," she murmured back, her breath bathing his cheek as they came face to face, his eyes doing their best to fuck her, too.

She began to slowly roll her hips, sending his big cock deeper inside her, the head stroking her walls in a way that made her want to scream. He kissed her before that could happen, though; his tongue tangoing with hers, and she knew in that moment, he'd be the type to eat her pussy like it was his last meal. His kisses were gentle but fervent. He sucked on her full lips with a tenderness that most white men didn't have. He moved his tongue against hers with a controlled chaos that made her insides tingle. As she rocked against him, his shaft hitting her clit repeatedly, she could already feel her orgasm looming. "Yeah," she moaned into his mouth.

"Yeah," Rick agreed, feeling like he was going to explode. Her pussy felt like heaven, and her ass jiggling beneath his fingers somehow felt even better. He had a cheek in each hand, squeezing them as she rode him. Her tits had fallen out of the dress they'd yet to pay for, and something about that – the fact that _everything_ about the moment was so deliciously wrong – only made it hotter. The steady sound of their chair beating against the wall, the scent of their sex beginning to fill the small suite, they were bound to get caught. But they didn't care, too lost in each other to give a damn about anything or anyone else. "Shit," he grunted, as she worked him, momentarily releasing her lips. His gaze landed on one of the many mirrors surrounding them, and he nearly lost it seeing the image of her ass bouncing on top of him. His cock sliding in and out of her. He grabbed her left cheek hard, solely to keep himself from letting go.

"Rick," she exhaled sharply, surprised by his grip. In response, her orgasm hit her like a brick, making her gasp and moan and whine as the euphoric feeling claimed her entire body, making her thighs tingle and her pussy tickle. She clutched the curls at his nape as she finished, feeling herself getting wetter, creaming all over him, just as he shuddered against her, his cum filling her up while he buried his head in her neck. It was all so much. "God," she sighed. She didn't want to move.

He gave her ass another squeeze, his fingers affectionately kneading her flesh, getting one last feel of her before she could dismount. "I dunno what I'm gonna do without you for a week," he breathed.

"Mmm," she moaned in agreement. She rested her head on top of his for just a moment before forcing herself up. The dick was so good she could barely walk, but she willed herself to do so and find her panties before they could leave too much of a mess. "I'm about to say something crazy, and if your answer is no, I'm just gonna blame this on being high from the sex," she warned him, still breathless. She was bent over and half naked as she spoke, and still, the question she was about to ask made her feel more vulnerable than that. "What if… you came home with me?"

Rick looked up in surprise, thinking he was the one that had to be high. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, unwilling to repeat the question.

As both of them stood, putting their jeans back on, he found himself blushing a bit. The sex didn't even do that, but her asking him to come home with her... "Is this just because you're gonna miss fuckin' me?" he joked, mostly an attempt to relieve his own apprehension.

"Well yeah," she admitted. "But also because I'm gonna miss _you_. And I want you to meet my family."

"Really?" He asked the question, not out of avoidance, as he would've done with any other woman – the way he had when Jessie invited him to a Fourth of July barbecue at her mom's. He was asking now because he couldn't believe that she wanted him to. And he wanted her to be sure, because he already knew his answer.

"I think so," she said, letting her new dress fall from her body. She bit her lip again, innocently this time, as she stared at him, in a bit of disbelief herself. This was all so unlike her, it was almost scary. But... "Yeah," she decided. "Really."

Rick nodded slowly, realizing just what he was agreeing to. It sounded crazy, but... so did everything else about their less-than-24-hour romance. This was different. And that was good. "Well then," he grinned, equal parts excited and nervous about all of it. "Yeah."


End file.
